


compass points you home

by i_gotnothquinn



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 5x12 continuation, Angst, Best Friends, Emotional Discussion, Gen, Ian speaks, Mickey goes to Mandy instead of jail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:40:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_gotnothquinn/pseuds/i_gotnothquinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is as alone as Mandy has seen Ian, or maybe that isn't true. Maybe she's seen this face many times over the years and never fully noticed it last. Maybe Ian's tired of pretending he never was alone in the first place. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Mandy visits Ian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	compass points you home

**Author's Note:**

> this is unbetaed and might be a little ooc, not sure. so let me know. i miss ian and mandy's friendship, so i kinda wanted to write about it.

Mickey visits her and he doesn't leave.

His face is a mess, and he's got a grazed bullet wound on his cheek. He looks wrecked, and for a while he doesn't even speak until Mandy can't take it anymore, so she asks, "Where's Ian?"

And to see her brother's face for a moment crumple before he tries to shakes out of it is scary when it doesn't work. Mandy's never seen Mickey cry as much since Ian, and he doesn't try to hide face with his hands. He doesn't try to press the tears down with the heels of his palms. He lets them fall and he shivers on her ratty used couch while Kenyatta hides off in the bedroom.

Mandy doesn't know what to do, but hold him. His hands are gripping on her wrist tight enough to snap, but she doesn’t mind - this pain is immaterial to all the battles she's fought. When Mickey finished, drained, he tells her. His voice is rough and scratched, like his soul was ripping out of him. She didn't judge. And when his voice shook, she only held him tighter.

_He broke up with me._

_He won’t take his meds._

_He doesn’t love me anymore._

_It’s over._

Mickey moves around like he’s lost his purpose. He hides it as best as he can, but Mandy notices with each step he takes. Mandy just doesn't understand. Things had been shaky when she left, she remembered. But, Ian was getting better Mickey has said.

(Mandy knows honestly that those weren’t Mickey’s actual words.

“I’m handling it.” He’d said, voice desperate and cross, “don’t you have to cook dinner for America’s Most Wanted or something?”)

We’re fine. We don’t need you. That’s what Mandy heard, so she never bothered to ask again. Felt like she had grown less of the right to. So she remained adrift in Indiana; became blind to the damage that was steadily making way over her own brother’s heart.

And for the life of her, she could no longer remember what it was like without Mickey and Ian by each other's sides. So, when Mickey curls onto her couch, looking abandoned, she can't stand it. She leaves Kenyatta in their bedroom to lay by her brother in the space he always leave empty.

When Mickey sleeps, she calls Ian.

All she gets is his voicemail.

It fucking pisses her off, definitely aggravates her to no return. Ian doesn't avoid confrontation. He isn't a pussy that cowers over at the ear-lashing he knows he deserves. By the seventh call and the thirteenth text, Mandy plans.

“I need the keys.” She looks at her boyfriend’s face, the way Kenyatta pauses through his chews on the dinner she made. Her hands are closed tight on her dirty glass of OJ, and she forces herself to breathe.

Kenyatta swallows, and places down his fork. He nods his head over to Mickey, passed out in the living room. “You going after your brother’s boy?”

Mandy rubs her fingers around the edge, the orange juice sour in her mouth. “Gonna’ do some intel work, maybe. See what happened.” Before he could argue, she insists quietly, “Ian hasn’t been answering my calls.”

Kenyatta stares at her for a moment, before he begins to eat again. “What do you expect during the divorce?”

“They weren’t married.” Mandy argues weakly, and she knows that the only reason why she’s right is because there isn’t a piece of paper to prove it. “He did a fucking number on him,” she whispered. “I won’t even be gone long, through most of the day tops.”

Kenyatta continues to eat, and if she lets herself picture her father, she keeps it quiet. It’s the feeling of a child that washes over her, waiting for permission. He finishes his drink, and she’s immediately up to receive another from the fridge, putting her glass in the sink.

When she turns back, the keys are on the table.

She can tell he’s pissed, but he nods down to them for her. When she reaches, his fist is strong vise on her wrist – her fingers just grazing the warm metal. “In and out,” He orders and he squeezes, “and make sure you keep your fucking legs closed.”

Mandy flinches and snarls down at him. The beer bottle slams roughly down on the table, shaking his plate.

“You try doing the fucking same.” She yanks her arm away; ignores his warning gaze and makes for the living room. Through halted words, she tells Kenyatta to leave Mickey alone until she gets back and she’ll pay for the gas. Mandy ruffles her hands through her brother’s dirty hair, gets her bag, and she exits the house towards the car.

She takes her baton with her.

\---

Getting back to Chicago isn't hard, but it's tiring. She doesn't want to be here anymore, but she's not exactly sure where she even should be.

South Side had sucked Mandy dry, left her clawing onto whatever arm was reluctant enough to hold her. Her hands only tighten when she thinks of blonde hair, wilder than hers, flying off the hood of her car. It leaves a bitter tang on her tongue and for a moment she can remember that night. There’s a wickedness, a guilt that spirals in her blood to her heart. She could say she was sorry, but she’s not and from how she remembers Karen, she wouldn’t accept an apology anyway.

It all goes down to weddings and broken hearts – hers and Ian’s drenched in vodka. Mickey’s now, shattered by this side of town. She takes in the area; feeling the South Side like an old skin. The roads are still filled with dirt and grime, and the Gallagher house is still standing tall with its chipped paint.

There's a fucking garden right next door now, and the dirty pool is still held up from the summer.

She parks her car and follows her instincts, walks to the backyard. Her heart is thundering in her chest, as she hears laughter from the inside the old van. She slams her fist on the passenger door. Lip looks at her shocked, but Mandy can't pay attention to him right now with the way Ian is looking at her. The laughter dies from his lips, and his face immediately closes in on itself. Locked and padded.

Ian knows what she's here for.

"Out, Gallagher." She grunts.

Lip seems to get that she's talking to him and she just moves enough to let the door open before she's squeezing inside to take his place.

Ian doesn't leave. He doesn't shrink, he doesn't fold in on himself, he's just there. He stares at her, and through her, quiet as the incoming winter breeze outside.

"He send you?" Ian finally lets out and Mandy snatches his bud, breathes in the holy marijuana.

"I came to see how the other half lives." Mandy says, voice drenches like poison over them. "Being as my brothers walking around like this shit's been kicked out of him."

Ian says nothing. His hands don't even twitch to try to get back his smoke.

"You're a fucking asshole." Mandy says and suddenly she's enraged. "You're a fucking family of fucking assholes! You don't give a shit about anyone, but yourselves!"

And Ian doesn't hide it, doesn't frown, or roll his eyes, simply reflects what she says and nods. The fucking bastard _nods_ at her.

"What do you want me to say, Mandy?" Ian asks, and his voice is devoid. He doesn't even sound like Ian, doesn't really look like him either. "It was for his own good."

Mandy can't stop how fast her hand is in her bag and she's whacking Ian sharp in the ribs with her prepared baton. He lets out a grunt of gritted pain, but even that doesn't surprise him. He looks almost bored. Mandy hits him again because she wants to. She wants to hit all of them - to take the pain of her and Mickey and let it bleed out of the Gallaghers for once.

"That was a shitty fucking thing to do someone!" Mandy shouts, "He loves you! He loves you more than anything and you spit in his face!"

Ian doesn't deny it, holding his likely bruising sternum and sniffs. He reaches out finally for the weed and takes it, but instead he stamps it out on the car dash and leaves it there to rot. There wasn't much left anyway.

Ian still isn't talking, still isn't bleeding, and that just keeps riling her up inside.

"Say something!" Mandy demands.

Ian is staring outside the van windows and his hands close and release over an old lighter. "You two deserved better."

Those words just knocks the wind out of her. It pulls her back to senior year and going through college applications and unused car breaks.

"You thought we were so great..." Ian says, his voice older as if he's right there with her looking back in time. "You wanted to be us, and I was proud. I was proud of my family showing you what a real one was." Ian sniffs again, and he rests his head back on the car seat. "I forgot to show you what Gallagher's really are. We're only strong for so long before we break. Us Gallagher's are a ticking time bomb." He plays with that lighter of his close to reckless, testing the fire. Mandy notices the burn marks on the inside of his hand. "Debbie’s pregnant," he says out loud to her. "Carl's in juvie, Lip's getting fucked by his teacher." and they both share a look, a remembrance of woman long gone. "Fiona got married so she can avoid having to watch over us anymore."

Mandy didn’t know any of these things; didn’t like how they put ice in her blood.

"And what about you?" Mandy asks, and Ian only shrugs, only grows quiet. Ian crawls in on himself. Mandy knows Ian hoards his secret like a dragon. He coils around them so protective, he'd rather die than have them released from his care. There's a lot of fucked up shit Ian will never say, that best friends are supposed to tell each other.

But, Ian's never really told her anything even when they first started getting real close. Everything Ian let's out is always covered in layers, awash with the secrets of boy who refuses to believe he's broken. Her baton feels useless now, and she lets it drop to her lap.

She reaches for his hand, feels how skinny he's gotten. "What about you, Ian?" She asks again, orders, "tell me."

Ian breathes out through his mouth, and he looks at his hand enclosed with hers. His face grows unreadable, and Mandy squeezes his fingers to bring him to speak.

Slowly, he does.

"I cheated on Mickey." Ian says, and he sounds smaller. Smaller than when Mandy first met him. He sounds like he would if he was still that picture on the drawer in the house, young and fully freckled. Mandy flinches at his words, and bites her tongue. Ian doesn't seem to notice. "I don't know if I meant to or not, I was just there and it happened, more than once...”

His voice grows halted and jagged, like each word ripped from the razors on his tongue. “And I made a... a porno, because we were broke and Mickey said we needed the money. The power would get shut off soon, and the Rub-n-tug got closed. We needed money for the lights... I thought $600 would cover it..." Everything Ian says seems to coil under his skin. His grip is tighter on her hands now, and Mandy finally sees what she was looking for.

Mickey walks like he lost a limb, but Ian breaths like he's without his soul.

His eyes have dulled to a murky green. His freckles are gone; he's all pale closed dungeon walls. "I took Yevgeny on... on a trip, to Disney and then Mandy it was...,” for once his voice shakes and his eyes glaze over. ”Angels... angels everywhere trying to take Yev from me. Like I was the demon, Mandy. I fucked things up..." He swallows rough, watches her. "Everyone looks at me the way you are right now. Like they don't know me, like I'm not Ian anymore." And he's not, not really. Not the one she remembers him being once, but she keeps her mouth closed because she understands. For a while no one looked at her as Mandy. No one thought she was the same either.

"Monica said, when I went away with her to find someone who loves me for me." Ian says to her and everyone and no one at all. "I don't even know what love looks like anymore. Where the hell am I supposed to look?"

She can't help herself when she says, "Mickey loves you... your family loves you... I love you.”

Ian gives her a humorless smile before he drops it from his face. "Everyone says that, but no one explains what it means."

Mandy shook her head and says, "It means we take care of each other."

Something happens, Mandy doesn't know what, but it does and it makes Ian recoil. His hand pulled out from hers, and he's leaning against the car door hard enough to try and infuse.

Ian looks raw. "Then I did the right thing." Ian says, and he's lost to her, staring almost defiant as if waiting for her to prove him wrong. "If that's love then I did the right thing." Ian's voice is harsh, and cold, and who is this person sitting next to her right now? It’s as if Ian noticed he said too much. He notices and he closes his tight iron gates. He has his canons ready to blast someone who'd just promised they weren't the enemy. "If you want me to apologize, then fine. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasted his time. I'm sorry I made him think he had to take care of me." He lets out a breath, all the air in his lungs before he reluctantly draws it back in again.

"Ian... he's not doing that because he has to. He's doing it because he loves you." Those words only seem to tighten his security. Ian's building a mote and a bridge, he's putting up gates and electric wires and locking himself up in the tallest tower.

"It'd be better if he hated me."

Those words chill Mandy to the marrow of her bones because Ian seems so sure of it, seems to believe this notion with his everything.

"Ian..." she stares at him, disturbed and awed, "you didn't mean any of that shit you said to him, did you?"

Ian didn't respond, simply avoided her eyes. It's the loudest answer Mandy has ever heard him never speak. It sounds the most terrifying, the way Ian disregards himself. Ian's self-hatred is palpable, she can feel it sour on her tongue, filling the air with a venom even Mandy can't expunge.

This is as alone as Mandy has seen Ian, or maybe that isn't true. Maybe she's seen this face many times over the years and never fully noticed it last. Maybe Ian's tired of pretending he never alone was in the first place.

"You should go," Ian says and it hurts how final he sounds, "Mickey needs you."

"He needs _you_." But, Ian is shaking his head and he's cracking right there and trying to hold himself, what's barely even there, together.

"I'm no good, Mandy." Ian says, "Just go... make him smile and laugh again and forget all about me."

"You're just giving up?" Mandy says, unable to control her disbelief, "you love him and you're just letting him go?"

Her words wreak havoc, and it’s terrifying to watch the resolve Ian’s built so high shatter right in front of her like this. Mandy’s eyes only widen as a vulnerability unleashes on Ian’s face.

"This isn't about love!" Ian's shouts bitingly, thundering over the van and the world. "This is about happiness! You think I can give him that?! That it'll last? I'm _saving_ him! He can live his life and be happy! That's all I want! So just let me have that, _please!_ "

Ian is shaking and so is she and he's blinking his lashes so fast they practically push the tears down his eyes. They are what shock Ian. Like he's been holding them in for so long, he never expected them to actually fall. Ian is lost and scared and drifting. Mandy reaches for his face, and he's too surprised to stop her, too lost in on himself.

"Ian... Ian, look at me." Mandy says and for a while Ian is not there with her. He's trying to breathe, trying too hard to keep his blood pumping; looking so unsure of if that's even what he wants. Mandy rests her head against his. "Ian, Ian. I'm here, alright. Ian, look right at me. Breathe with me, you fucking asshole."

He does, slowly, slowly, he does. His hands are clenched to white and he is pressing his forehead tight against Mandy’s. She shouldn't have left. She doesn't know how she would have stopped this, how she could have fixed it, but she should have stayed. Her two idiot boys. How could she make herself believe they could even make it without her? They barely stood a fighting chance.

They are quiet for a while, playing back mistakes in their minds and trying to figure out how to regroup from here. Mandy wipes her hands down his tears, to his biceps and around his arms. She lets Ian slowly rest his face, nose deep, into the crook of her shoulder.

"I know this might fucking suck," Mandy whispers into his hair and, hopefully, through to his heart, "but we love you. Gallagher's might be fucking rats, but we Milkoviches are cockroaches. You can't get rid of us that easily. You're family, Ian...”

Ian's eyes stay closed, he's scrunched on his side in this too big van, but he doesn't seem to mind. The aches are in their bones, and Mandy pets his hair, hold Ian like the child he's always been.

"You can be happy too," Ian says back instead, still in his head as if he never heard her speak at all, "if you let yourself. You can go back to school and get your degree and kick ass at whatever you do and be happy... you guys never fight for yourselves. I want that for you too, Mandy."

Ian Gallagher, says that into the heat of her skin like he's not the only one aching here. Like she hasn't already fallen apart and chosen her path.

"You say you're fucked for life, but look at you..." Ian mutters, tired, and in tiny pieces, "you're both so amazing, I never could deserve you. You deserve better. You both deserve better." Ian nudges her, but Mandy doesn't let go, so he rests. "I'm glad I tripped Mr. Bancroft."

"I'm glad too." Mandy says back. "It's my favorite memory."

"Yeah?" Ian says, soft.

"Of course it is." And she means it before something reminds her to ask, "Ian, are you on your meds?"

"Mmm," Ian replies, "hate them. Wish I didn't have to."

"But you do...?"

"They're the first step," Ian says, and Mandy wants to ask to _what_ , but Ian is loose in her arms for the first time in forever. His voice is even quieter when he mumbles," you smell like Mickey."

Her heart wrenches in her chest, and she holds him tighter while he staggeringly breaths her in; slicked tears pattering on her collarbone.

\--

Lip brings out food to them. Mandy doesn’t look him in the eye, and Lip doesn’t force it – hand grasping her shoulder before pushing off, away.

Mandy can’t get Ian to talk about it anymore. He keeps asking her about Indiana, about her new job waitressing, anything else outside of him. She doesn’t have much to say about it; so instead they mostly stare outside the dirty glass and talk about as many impersonal things as possible.

“I can’t forgive you for this, Ian.” She says when she’s finally ready to leave.

He doesn’t say anything back. He hugs her, he takes the clenching hands at his arms and chest with barely a grimace, and watches her get in the car.

Mandy goes back.

Kenyatta’s not there, but Mickey is still on the couch. He’s hold up in one of her old blankets, joint in his mouth as he stares at the ceiling.

“The fuck have you been?” His voice comes out raspy like he only recently stopped sobbing. Mandy hates it.

“To see Ian.” She says, and she watches his hands flinch; the way his eyes water until he forces them to dry.

It so soft, pushing against gravel the way his voice comes out. “What he say?”

Mandy has a big decision to make here, she realizes. This could make or break their relationship. It could change the very futures they now have. Milkovichs don't run, but here they both are. _You both deserve better._ It was the most sincere thing Ian had said, and he meant it. Mandy wants to believe it, knows she probably shouldn't. She choose here. She choose everything she got. Mickey looks small on the couch and she doesn't feel much bigger. He looks like her next words could break him down.

Mandy swallows and takes a breath. “He said he wants you to forget about him,” She takes her coat off and sits next to Mickey. “He said all he wants is for you to be happy. He doesn’t think he can do that.”

Mickey stills. Mandy watches as that unreadable quiver trembles over the blue in his eyes. He mumbles something too quiet for her to hear as he’s blowing out smoke – the white wisps taking his hidden words towards the rotted ceiling. There they drift and disappear into the cracks. 

(She can't avoid the hollow feeling in her chest when she finds him gone in the middle of the night. The ash tray is covered with cigarette butts all pointing towards the door. 

Kenyatta calls for her.

She doesn't know where to turn.)


End file.
